


Ode to a Bacon Cheeseburger

by kennagirl



Category: Glee
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, First Dates, Food Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennagirl/pseuds/kennagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you find the perfect food at college, you want to take every visitor you have to enjoy it with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ode to a Bacon Cheeseburger

**Author's Note:**

> I visited New Haven this summer, and this is what came of that.

For her first month on campus, Quinn stuck to the dining hall in her residential college. She wanted the college experience, and that seemed like a big part of it. She also didn't see the point in wandering around town when there was so much food less than a block away that was already covered on her meal plan. But the shine wore off, and she found herself Googling area restaurants and checking them against the opinions of upperclassmen.

It only took one breakfast for her to understand the cult of Dunkin' Donuts, but three more to subscribe to it. Educated Burgher down the street from campus was a bit of a disappointment, but she liked the decor and got a kick out of the sign behind the counter proclaiming that their meat came from the Hummel Bros. Company. Prime 16, though, was a winner.

It quickly became one of her favorite places, but usually a place she went alone, and not really a place for conversation. A little beer house, it was sandwiched between two other buildings and across the street from the nicest hotel in New Haven. The lights were dim and the acoustics were terrible, to the point where you could barely hear the person in front of you, but the food was delicious. Her favorite was the Cowboy Burger: a thick, juicy patty covered in cheese and topped with crisp bacon (she substituted applewood for the usual canadian) and a beautifully fried egg. In a pointless attempt at making it seem healthy, a single large leaf of lettuce sat under the beef. After the time the restaurant ran out of the brioche rolls, Quinn always ordered a pretzel roll, as well as her customary side of sweet potato fries. When she ate it, it took both hands to hold on, which meant both hands ended up covered in running egg, as well as the edges of her mouth. It was hot and fresh and flavorful and almost sinful. It was not a burger for a lady.

Luckily, she didn't have to impress anyone at the moment.

Santana raised an eyebrow at her over her Cobb salad as Quinn let out a moan. "You having an orgasm or a religious experience over there?"

Swallowing thickly, she answered, "You've heard one of those, you tell me."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you're not seeing Jesus in the egg yolk on your plate." She stabbed a few pieces of lettuce and chicken with her fork. "So why'd you invite me up here, anyway? Not that I haven't missed your stretchmarked white ass, but your text was kinda cryptic."

"I've been to New York and seen your place," Quinn explained. "Thought I'd return the favor."

"But I wasn't even living at the loft then," Santana said. "And you and Berry had that whole train pass trade, and I don't see you inviting her up here to sleep on your floor."

"Maybe I don't want someone to sleep on my floor."

"Well then where am I sleeping?"

Quinn was silent for a minute, just looking at Santana. She even took a bite of her burger to avoid answering.

" _Oh._ "

Santana smirked, eyes twinkling, which turned Quinn's watchful gaze into a glare. "Shut up."

"So it's a three time thing now?"

"What if it is?"

"If you're not careful, I might start thinking you want to be my girlfriend." She was still smirking, but when Quinn's eyes cut down to her plate and she starting twisting her fingers into the napkin, it softened into a genuine smile. "You know, this is kind of a shitty first date."

Quinn looked up and smiled back, small and true. "First dates are about first impressions. We're way past that."

"If we're talking about how many impressions we have of each other, we're probably married and divorced already," Santana reminded her.

"A few times over," Quinn added.

Santana just shrugged. "Make sure you wash your hands when you're done demolishing that thing."

"I was planning on it," Quinn said, though she was clearly unsure why she was being told to do so.

"Good. I'd hate to try to walk down the street holding your hand and get covered in yellow slime."


End file.
